


Five ways to meet

by liionne



Series: A thousand ways to meet [12]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Therapy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:09:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's a nanny or a kidnapped kid or a lovable Jock or an FBI agent or a therapist's patient, and Bones is a working dad, an FBI agent, a new teacher, a Forensic Medical Examiner and a Therapist.</p><p>Or, Five Snippets of AUs I will one day write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five ways to meet

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from a mixture of tumblr prompts and prompts from here.

_**Five** : The FBI AU_

"Sulu, take everything down. Spock don't even think about touching that body till Sulu's got it, and Bones, with me."

Jim gave his orders with his best "serious" face, and then left the room. He'd been leading the Khan case for a while now, and it was starting to do his head in. He couldn't get anywhere near him; Khan covered his tracks so well it was almost as if he'd never left them. Jim left number 99 of Botany Bay Terrace, scowling to himself the whole while.

"Why am I even here, Jim?" Bones asked, following him out.

"Because you need to help them take the body down; they rupture anything, or break anything, the whole case goes down." Jim explained, sounding a little irritated. The bags under his eyes illustrated how tired he was, and Bones felt a little sorry for him.

Bones raised an eyebrow. "Pike still on your ass?"

"So close he might as well be in it." Jim grumbled.

"Not enough room for the two of us."

They had stopped at the sidewalk, and Jim turned to look at Bones. Slowly, a grin spread over Jim's features.

"With the right prep I believe my body can do anything." He said, sounding almost haughty. "And I'll try everything once."

"I'm old fashined Jim. Too kinky for me." Bones raised an eyebrow.

Jim sighed airly. "Shame. I'll have to ask Spock instead."

"Sir?" Sulu called from the doorway. "We're done."

"Damn it, Jim." Bones muttered, turning back towards the house to help Sulu take the body down.

_**Four** : The Highschool AU_

The whole school had been talking about this new anatomy teacher for a whole week, which was years in School Gossip Time, and it was no wonder why. Puri was a great teacher and all, but he was a little outdated in his methods. A new teacher would freshen the place up. And anyway, Christine's sister's friend's cousin had heard that the guy who was getting the job was quite young, and very, very hot.

So naturally Jim snuck into his room on the new teacher's first day to find out more.

He had his laptop open and running in a matter of minutes, username entered and fingers poised to type his password. Now all he had to do was work out what it was...

He tried a few things, name variations, key dates, things like that - but nothing he tried worked. Growling, Jim began to type again, when he was interrupted by a thick Southern voice saying, "Sure that's a good idea, kid?"

Jim's head turned towards the door so quickly that his neck popped, but he barely hd time to register it.

Christine's sister's friend's cousin had been right - Mr. McCoy was perhaps the hottest teacher this school had ever seen.

Jim's jaw went slack, but he stayed crouched over the laptop, spine arched in an almost perfect curve. He watched McCoy, who came into the room to lean against the bookcase with raised eyebrows.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked.

Jim wanted to nod, but he swallowed thickly and straightened his back.

"No sir." he repsonded, the model student.

"So you can talk." McCoy nodded. "Good start. So why where you in here?"

"Wrong classroom." Jim murmured.

Christ almighty he was bad at lying to this man.

"Uh huh." Leonard said slowly, disbelievingly. Jim didn't blame him, it was a shitty excuse. "Well then," McCoy continued. "You won't mind going to the right classroom."

"No sir." Jim repeated, even though he totally did mind leaving, because it meant he wouldn't be ab;e to look at Mr. McCoy anymore.

Jim shouldered his bag and left, seeing a soft smirk turn up the corners of McCoy's lips. He almost sprinted to the office, where he demanded of Ms. Rand- "Let me switch! Let me switch to McCoy's class!"

_**Three** : The Kidnapper AU_

  
Days blurred into nights when you were stuck in a basement with blacked out windows and no set meal structure. Jim didn't mind, really. It just meant that he wasn't sure how long he'd been missing for, and he couldn't even scratch little tally marks into the wall with his fingernails every time he woke up because he could never be sure of how long he slept. He could estimate when the morning began - every time his kidnappers's boots headed over the basement and the front door slammed, he could assume he was going to work. But then again, he could work night shift.

Jim was just living out his days in a constant state of perplextion.

Weirdly, he didn't _mind_ being kidnapped. He was better fed here than he had been at home with Frank, and all he was getting were scraps left over at the end of a meal and a few little titbits like bread and cold meat every so often. Hell, he even got a beer once. As far as he could tell, his captor was a pretty cool dude.

Except for the occasions he'd come down and beat him up a little bit, just to make sure he wasn't getting too cushy. In that respect, this basement was very much like home.

One morning (well, he thought it was morning), his eyes opened, and he heard the sound of hammering, like something banging hard against the door. There was yelling, and then there were gunshots. The dull banging, the thud-thud-thud-ing continued, until-

Light broke through into the basement, blinding white sunlight, and Jim winced against it.

"Anyone down here?"

The voice was gruff and Southern but still so inviting. Jim, who hadn't spoken in weeks, cried hoarsly, "'m here!"

He felt like a dog, like he could't quite tell how much time is passing, like he was floating through some timeless zone. He remembered that Sam had told him that - that dogs had no sense of time.

And then he'd left.

There's hands on his knees, and Jim's eyes have adjusted enough to let him see hazel blue eyes. "Boys, I found him." He drawled through to the floor above the basement, where the rest of his team must have been. He had hazel eyes that are flecked with gold and muscles that were perfectly shown off by that tight black t-shirt. He held a gun in one hand, but dropped it to the floor with a clatter.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Jim," Jim answered. "Jim Kirk."

The guy smiled as if this is good news. Maybe it was. "McCoy, Leonard McCoy." He nodded. "I'm - we're - going to get you out of here, Jim. Alright?"

"Okay." Jim murmured.

Leonard tucked the gun into the waistband of his trousers, and moved his hands to slide one around Jim's waist. Jim could hear the thundering of feet coming down the basement stairs, and he wasn't sure why, but he began to shake.

"S'alright," Leonard murmured in his ear, feeling him trembling. "You're safe now, we're the good guys, you're alright."

Jim swallowed thickly.

"Give him some space, c'mon people." He barked, and the crowd parted to let them through. There were already people taking photographs and talking into walkie talkies, and Jim tried to ignore them.

"You been outside at all?" Leonard asked, as he pulled Jim up the stairs. The sunlight was already brighter than he'd ever experienced since being in captivity, and it was hurting his eyes.

"No." He answered weakly.

"Alright." Leonard nodded. He paused, and Jim braced himself against the wall, watching as he tugged the black jacket from around his shoulders off. He passed it to Jim. "Put that over your head, it'll keep most of the light off."

Jim nodded, taking it gratefully, and threw it over his head as they stepped outside.

There were no reporters. No news vans. No one was making a big deal of Jim Kirk. Damn it, his _mother_ wasn't even there. There was a crowd of worried looking neighbours, with pale hands pressed to mouths and curled into the shoulders of children, but that was all.

Leonard put him in the back of a large black pick up truck, and when another two agents joined them, they drove away.

"What happened to Nero?" Jim asked quietly.

"Don't tell me he's gone Stockholm." The lady in the front of the car said, turning her head to look at the driver.

"I've not got Stockholm syndrome." Jim snapped. "I just want to know."

"Bastard's gonna get what's comin' to him." Leonard muttered. He looked from Jim to the window, watching the San Fransiscan scenery drive by.

 

_Two: The Nanny Au_

"You're the _nanny_?"

Jim smiled. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten that reaction. Sure, the line between gender specific jobs wsa becoming seriously blurred, but a male nanny was still pretty unheard of. Pretty unheard of, and often pretty unwanted. As was the case here, evidently.

Dr. McCoy shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't think-"

"Christ Len what is this, the 60s?" His wife, Mrs. McCoy snapped, scowling at him in a very private way. "Give the guy a chance."

Dr. McCoy seemed to be having none of it. "Look, we've already interviewed enough nannies for today, and I'm sure you're great, but-"

"Shut up." She hissed, pure venom on her face before she looked back to Jim. Her expression softened, and she smiled sweetly. "Did you bring a resume, Jim?"

"Uh, yeah." He nodded. He'd worked for families who were under stress, who were straining to keep together before, but never this bad. He handed over the sheets of paper, and watched as she read them over. She gave a warm - and maybe even a little bit smug - smile, and handed it over to Dr. McCoy.

"Damn." He murmured, as he leafed through. "You were the head at Enterprise Day Care?"

"For three years." Jim nodded.

"And you trained at Federation State?"

"Mm."

Enterprise Day Care and Federation State were the best of the best. And so maybe he had got into the Federation by a total fluke, but he had _aced_  his courses, and he'd taken over Enterprise within 6 months of working there. He was their youngest Head Nanny, and many said he was the best.

"Huh." Dr. McCoy murmured. He tilted his head a little to the side, heaved a sigh, and set the papers down on the table.

Mrs. McCoy smiled. "When can you start?"

~*~

In the weeks that followed, Jim learned a lot about the McCoys. Dr. McCoy was in his third and final year of a medical residency, and he was always given stupidly long hours and some of the worse shifts, having to work the graveyard shift more often than not. When Jim asked, which he didn't often, the good doctor said it was just his turn. He'd had a good two years, and now was his time to take the crap.

His wife, just like himself, was never at home. She went out for work at nine o'clock in the morning, and often didn't return till nine o'clock that evening, meaning that Jim had a lot of time to look after baby Jo. She seemed like a nice enough women, if a little snippy with her husband. But then again, Doctor McCoy was no joy to be around either.

Jim saw him a lot in the early evenings, as the sun was setting and he was getting ready to put Jo to bed. That was when Doctor "Cut it out with the Doctor, kid" McCoy would emerge from the spare room - because Jim never failed to notice that he had seemingly set up permanent residence in the spare room - like a bear from hibernation, and would come downstairs to the kitchen, where Jim was usually trying to stuff Joanna's mouth full of berry-flavoured something.

He'd kiss the top of his daughter's head, smile sleepily at the squeal of delight she gave, and raise an eyebrow at Jim. It was going to be the eyebrow that put the fear of God into little med interns, he knew it.

"More berry flavoured mush?" He'd ask, making himself a cup of coffee.

"It gets her to eat her vegetables." Jim'd reply, before popping the spoon in her mouth.

One night, he came down without a shirt on.

Jim was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven. A weird kind of heaven, but heaven all the same.

He was all tanned skin and toned muscles and he was a total regulation hotty to begin with but _now_ \- well, just wait until Carol heard about this one.

Jim faltered a little, jaw going slack and his hand with it.

The berry-coated carrot slice hit the floor with a squelch.

"C'mon kid," McCoy muttered, frowning disdainfully at the floor before looking back up at him. "Even Jo can keep her hand straight."

"Y- yeah." Jim mumbled. He looked down at her plate, only to find that there was no food left on her plate. He sighed. "Sorry Jo Jo." He said.

She just clapped her little chubby hands, leaning over in an attempt to grab her father from her high chair.

"I got ya, sweetheart." McCoy said, pulling her from the chair and holding her to his chest. His very bare, very tanned, very _hot_ chest. She squaled in that way she only ever reserved for her father, and pressed her tiny palms to his cheeks. He laughed, something Jim barely heard from him, and made kissy faces at her.

Jim was dying. He was in serious pain. McCoy was being perhaps the most adorable man on the planet, making faces and kissing his little girl, whilst being totally hot with bed-mussed hair and nothing but raggy old sweat pants on.

No.

Jim would not be attracted to his employer.

Or at least, not outwardly.

McCoy huffed as he sipped at his coffee, looking at the clock on the wall. "I'll have to go and get ready-" He muttered, handing the baby off to Jim. His hands brushed McCoy's bare chest, and he shivered.

"Be a good girl, y'here?" McCoy ran a hand over her head, standing close to Jim's side to press a kiss to her scalp.

Like this, Jim could almost pretend they were a family.

 

  
_  
_ _One: The Therapist AU_   


The first time he met Jim Kirk, he was sixteen years old and had just been rescued from the abusive clutches of his step father. Lord only knew where his mother was, his real father was dead, his brother long gone, having moved out when the blows got too hard. Jim was the only one left. He was severely malnourished, black and blue from fists and beer bottles, and barely alive.

Leonard was qualified to patch him up, sure. But he took one look at that kid and knew he couldn't. His life had barely begun, all but sixteen, and it was so close to an end. They had to put him in an induced coma just to get him better. When he came out of it two months later, he was given a rehabilitation period of a few weeks in the hospital.

It was after that, when Jim was put into a children's home and finally settled, safe at last, that Leonard stepped in.

He sat behind that big polished wood desk of his, and watched as Jim sunk lower and lower into the ig puffy chair opposite. He's filling out now, and the bruises are gone. His nose is a little crooked from being broken so many times and being left to heal on its own, and his eyes still look a little sunken into his face. It'll all right itself eventually. Leonard knows that much.

"So James," He began, but the kid scowled.

"Jim." He corrected him.

Leonard nodded. "Jim."

Jim gaves him a fake smile, and folded his arms across his chest. He looked at the door, but Leonard couldn't help but notice the sneaky glances he gives him every so often when he thinks the good doctor might not be looking.

"Jim, I want to talk about what happened to you."

"A lot of things have happened to me." He muttered, looking down at the floor.

Leonard allowed a small smile before he added, "What happened to you to have you admitted to hospital."

"Oh. That." Jim muttered, and nodded. "Frank got drunk and beat the shit out of me. It wouldn't be the first time. Can I go now?"

"Jim." Leonard said, his voice a little stern. "We've got a good ten sessions ahead of us, so I suggestive you get used to being here. We don't have to do it like this, if you don't want to. We can go and sit on the sofa over there like friends, you can lie on the couch like some bad comedy movie, or we can sit on the floor like hobos. I've done all of 'em before. Take your pick."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "I wanna lie on the couch."

"Alright." Leonard nodded. He gestured toward it, and Jim took a minimal two steps before he threw himself down onto the sofa leather cushions, putting his hands behind his head as Leonard pulled a chair up to sit by the side of his head. Jim had not just a perfect view of his face, but also a perfect view of his crotch. _Perfect_.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Leonard began.

Jim nodded. "Go for it, Bones."

"Bones?"

"There's a skeleton in the corner of your room." Jim explained.

Leonard arched an eyebrow, and nodded. "Whatever makes you happy."

"Thanks Bones." Jim grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for typos!


End file.
